


I Found You In Pieces (You'd Been Torn Apart)

by brilliantbri



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-03-16 02:22:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3470834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brilliantbri/pseuds/brilliantbri
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The five times following the battle with the Mountain Men that Clarke was still not ready; and the one time she was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Something So Precious About This

**Author's Note:**

> This story takes place a few weeks post the battle with the Mountain Men. It assumes that their are no major character deaths for the core crew. It will be set up as 6 individual scenes taking the place over a journey to attend a clan meeting with the outer clans.

When the wind settled into a thick blanket of heavy wet air, Lexa awoke. Years under the stars accustomed her to the moods of the skies. She knew, despite the night still unfolding over the vast expanse of land—her land, that the storm had made its presence known and disappeared as quickly. Without needing to look outside for confirmation, Lexa sensed the arrival of a thick layer blanketing the plush grass outside the confines of her tent. Excitement filled her chest with the same child-like joy she had always felt during the first snowfall of the season. Memories of snowball fights with her father when she was too small to ever stand a chance at victory rushed her mind, bringing in its wake a dose of nostalgia almost powerful enough to strip Lexa of her cool composure.

Tradition. She always did the same thing during the first snow fall. It didn't matter that time had ripped first her parents, and then so many others, from her. It was always the same on the first storm of the year. And for the first time in longer than she cared to remember Lexa had someone she wanted to share the moment with.

  
She rose and dressed in a hurry. Before exiting the warmth of her tent, Lexa grabbed an extra cloak and a warm fur hat for her maladjusted friend. She slipped silently out of her tent and made her way across the small camp she and her people had set up during their week long travels for the clan leaders assembly. When she arrived at Clarke's tent, Lexa slipped in the small opening without a sound. Even in the dark she could make out the fair mane of hair spread out like sun rays atop a white pillow.

  
Not wanting to startle her sleeping friend, Lexa approached Clarke's side silently. She knelt low and reached out with the intention of shaking Clarke's shoulder lightly, but somehow instead found her fingers brushing a strand of stray hair off Clarke's tensed forehead. Lexa frowned, sensing the disturbing thoughts behind Clarke's furrowed brow.

“Clarke,” she whispered, this time finding the spot and giving a firm, but gentle shake. “Clarke, wake up.” At first Clarke groaned and rolled away from Lexa's cold fingers, but one more shake and her eyes lifted open. Clarke blinked and shook the drowsiness from her mind as she processed who was in her tent.

“Commander?” she asked when her mind cleared enough to process that it was still very clearly night. “Is something wrong?” Clarke sprung to attention, slipping out of her covers and standing, ready for a fight.

“No, Clarke. I have a surprise.” Clarke's eyes narrowed as she took in Lexa's stance. The usually calm and collected commander stood with her hands clasped near her chest; a genuine smile threatened to tear through her usually pouted lips. When their eyes met, Clarke found a twinkle in her companion's that served a catalyst for a smile of her own.

“In the middle of the night? Are you leading me to a secret execution?” Clarke teased as she pulled on her jacket and buttoned her pants. “I'm kidding,” she added, when Lexa's grin slipped. “Just let me find another coat or something. It's freezing.”

“I brought you this,” Lexa offered. Clarke took the cloak without hesitation, pulling the fur over her shoulders and tying a secure knot at the base of her throat. “And this to warm your ears.” The hat was snug on Clarke's head, but she already felt her body warming under the layers. She knew she probably looked a sight in all the grounder clothes, but she was definitely grateful for Lexa's consideration and generosity. The past four days of travels had taken a toll on Clarke's patience due to decreasing temperatures. In fact, her small group of companions were faring just as poorly in the cold, bitter atmosphere. Clarke continued to hope that this clan assembly would go well; she needed to believe her people would be able to enter into trade with the others. It was the only way she knew to keep them warm through the winter.

The never ending troubles that plagued Clarke's mind dampened her mood considerably as she bent to pull her boots on. Lexa frowned at the return of tension over Clarke's brow. She knew how much pressure Clarke was under, not just from her friends that accompanied them on the excursion, but also her mother and the other leaders back at camp. Lexa longed to ease that burden and vowed silently to take some of the weight on her own back. She'd do whatever it took to help the Sky People. Her gratitude for their assistance against the Mountain Men would not go unreturned.

Clarke knew Lexa was staring again. She'd never met someone so intrigued by her every movement. When they first met Clarke had found Lexa's gaze to be unsettling, but now it gave her an odd sense of comfort. Clarke had to admit she liked the consistency. Lexa was strong and firm, always there to support and listen. Sure, Clarke knew Lexa had very different ideas about dealing with those who oppose their leadership, but she also knew that Lexa could be trusted to honor her word. Clarke was confident that Lexa would not betray her. Truthfully, that meant everything to Clarke. It was the most important part of her new life on Earth. She felt she'd found a kindred spirit in the commander. They'd both been burdened with a curse of leadership. Clarke felt comfort in the realization that Lexa was just as confused as she was.

When Clarke attempted to slip out of her tent Lexa slid up behind her, using the height difference to effectively cover Clarke's eyes with her cold fingers. “It's a surprise,” Lexa whispered, her mouth close enough to Clarke's face to feel the warmth of breath on her cheek. It sent a shiver down Clarke's spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

Clarke stepped out of the cover of her makeshift home slowly. The unexpected crunch from under her boots sent a shot of excitement up her legs and through her body like a ripple in an ocean. She couldn't see or feel it, but Clarke knew it had finally come—snow! Lexa's hands did not leave Clarke's eyes as she whispered clear concise directions that led Clarke away from camp. After what seemed like hours to Clarke's eager sensibilities, Lexa ordered her to stop.

“Are you ready, Clarke?” she asked, her body still impossibly close. Clarke nodded and prepared herself. In a rush she felt Lexa drop her hands and retreat a respectable distance away. Momentarily Clarke missed the warmth of Lexa's body, but the thought scurried away when her eyes opened. She was poised in the center of a small clearing surrounded by imposing trees. The ground was dusted a brilliant white more pure than Clarke could have ever imagined it would be. The trees nearby bowed under the weight of the lush white powder. If Clarke believed in a higher power she'd think it had conspired to bring her exactly to this moment. Just past the tree line the sky was illuminated in a hazy gray, split open by sharp bright sun rays; morning had come.

As Clarke's eyes took in the sheer beauty of fresh snow Lexa observed Clarke. She'd seen many beautiful colors in her life, but Lexa was not sure she'd ever seen a blue so clear and lovely as Clarke's eyes. Clarke of the Sky People. The girl with sunlight in her hair and stars in her eyes. Lexa wasn't sure when she first noticed how lovely her ally could be, but the constant dull ache in her stomach was now a familiar friend. Lexa was happy with Clarke no matter what the circumstances surrounding them. Without the prying glances from her people or the weight of her responsibility, Lexa allowed herself to feel; she opened her heart to that unrestrained joy she had learned to suppress long ago.

Clarke, realizing her gratitude for that very moment, peeled her gaze from the line of trees and looked to the person who'd given her this gift. Their eyes met and their smiles broke out of hiding. Clarke was sure she'd never seen so many of Lexa's teeth. Her heart swelled tenfold. The urge to reach out and hug Lexa overpowered her.

Lexa stumbled backwards as Clarke's body barreled into her. Instinctively her arms encircled Clarke's lower back and held her close. “Thank you,” Clarke said, holding on just as tight around Lexa's neck. The pair stayed in the embrace for a pregnant moment, breathing in each others warmth and savoring the feel of someone else's strong and sturdy frame holding them upright. It was Lexa who finally broke the embrace, not because she no longer wanted to hold Clarke close, but because being so close made her want to hold Clarke _closer_.

“I always sneak away to play in the snow during the first storm,” Lexa explained when she had backed away from Clarke. “Although today is more beautiful than most.” She'd be lying if she denied that most of the beauty radiated from Clarke, not the weather. Lexa was willing to wait as long as it took for Clarke to reciprocate feelings. She owed her that respect. And even if Clarke never came to her with a promise of readiness, Lexa was content to be friends and allies. She was already too attached and going back was not an option. If there was one thing Lexa learned from her time leading her people it was that.

“It's amazing,” Clarke mused as she bent low to pick some snow up. Her hands held tight to the cold, wet powder as it melted and froze her uncovered digits. Splat! The snow ball exploded in one sharp cold burst over her arm. Clarke turned, eyes dancing, just in time to be hit by yet another cold ball of snow. She shivered as the ice melted and dripped down the bare skin of her neck. “Did you just...?” she sputtered as she hurried to make a snow ball of her own. “Hit me?” she finished, as she stood and tossed one back. Lexa darted away in a blur of laughter.

“You're gonna have to be faster than that, Clarke,” she teased as she bent to make another. As she worked, Clarke managed to send one sloppy snowball right to the back of Lexa's head. When Lexa reeled around she had two more snowballs ready. “You're dead.”

Clarke took off as fast as she could in the plush snow as Lexa launched a counterattack. The attacks continued on and on as the girls ran and played. Their playful giggles broke the silence of the morning air. After quite some time, Clarke—all white puffs and heaving chest—slipped and slid to her back with a thunk. Lexa, startled, hurried over. “Clarke? Are you alright, Clarke?” Lexa reached down to help, but was yanked to the ground with a shriek of laughter. Lexa tried to protest Clarke's betrayal, but soon she was laughing too. Unrestrained guffaws erupted from the ladies until their stomachs ached and their eyes burned with moisture.

“I win,” Clarke remarked when she finally managed to regain her composure. She looked over, not at all surprised to find Lexa already studying her. Her smile dropped and silence descended on the clearing.

“Thank you,” Clarke whispered, not wanting to disturb the peace that seemed to have crept in sometime during their play.

When Lexa replied she spoke in the same breathy undertone. “My pleasure.” It was a simple response, but the only honest one. She fixed her eyes on Clarke's and refused to break the contact until Clarke finally looked away. It might have just been the cold air, but for a moment Lexa could swear she saw a blush erupt over Clarke's already rosy cheeks.

Lexa turned her head back to the sky and closed her eyes. She inhaled deep and begged the familiar Earth below her to hold the moment forever. Clarke's fingers slipped in hers and squeezed tight. Lexa could feel the heat from Clarke's stare so she smiled without opening her eyes. For once she just allowed Clarke to observe her.

For Clarke the peace of the moment nested deep inside her core. She felt the blanket of serenity settle inside her bones. It felt like...well home. The thought seemed misplaced somehow—like it was an intruder in her mind. But as Clarke steadied her gaze on Lexa's smiling profile she couldn't deny the familiarity her companion offered. For the first time since landing on Earth Clarke wondered if maybe she was able to map out a home for herself in the midst of all the chaos. So she looked back to the sky and smiled too. Their entwined hands thawed as they savored the moment.


	2. Slithered Here From Eden (Just To Hide Outside Your Door)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So last night's episode fucked me up. As far as this story goes, the battle at Mount Weather was a raging success. Lexa was never offered a deal and is still in Clarke's good graces. Polis does not exist in this story simply because I don't want to make any changes to what I've already written and/or planned.

In the two days following the snow storm, Clarke found herself more frustrated with the Commander than she'd ever been. All the walls she thought she'd manage to disassemble not only returned by the time the pair had returned to camp, but magnified in some silly overcompensating bravado. Frankly it made Clarke angry. She was angry because in such a short time Lexa had given Clarke a taste of what a real life—one without the burdens of leading her people—could be. She was infuriated that Lexa had given her so much just to rip it away in favor of stoic disinterest. Mostly, though, Clarke was furious because no matter how hard she tried to remain angry she was actually just hurt.

In the clearing that day Clarke had felt like she made a breakthrough. She had believed momentarily that something had shifted—that she and Lexa would find a way to stop whatever maddening game of do and don't they'd been playing at since they met. Clarke assumed she'd made progress with Lexa's distrust. Now though, now it felt like the one step forward resulted in three leaps back; Lexa was more harsh, less receptive, and sometimes downright rude. Just the previous night she had forced Clarke to leave her because she didn't “want to talk.” Her words had stung. Clarke wasn't sure there was anyone she wanted to talk to more than Lexa.

It wasn't just that she was attracted to Lexa either because she'd always noticed just how appealing it was to look at Lexa. That revelation was not something new to work with; it was just another facet of their never-ending play at power dynamics. Ever since she put the knife through Finn's heart, Clarke had felt so disconnected. It was as if she were watching her life play out on screen. She couldn't process. Forget about feeling; that was a luxury for those who knew how to handle grief. It was as if the past month, with all it's death and loss, managed to break the scale inside of Clarke. She no longer had any way to weigh the good against the bad. It was all bad. Somewhere in it all she just shut down. That was worse.

The numbness sucked away at Clarke's soul, leaving her empty. But with Lexa...with Lexa she felt like some jagged piece of her fractured soul broke through the black hole in an attempt to find something on Lexa's side. Clarke longed, deep inside all the pain, to latch onto that same longing inside Lexa's brokenness. Spending time with the only person as devoid and empty as herself seemed to absolve Clarke's wrongdoings. Her trauma was not hers to bear alone; Lexa shared her struggle.

Maybe she was being stupid. Maybe she was mistaking an alliance for friendship. But Clarke couldn't deny that she wanted—needed—Lexa. She needed the life force like gravity. Lexa held her to the ground. She forced Clarke to feel. And maybe all the things Clarke felt were irresponsible and reckless, but it was better than the nothingness she had fallen into. Being frustrated and irritated with Lexa was infinitely better than the nothingness that threatened to emerge from the shadows at all times. Even Clarke's pain and regret and _guilt_ was better than nothing.  
That's ultimately why Clarke decided after three days of deafening silence to track Lexa down and corner her. She was sick of the attitude and she wanted answers. She figured she'd find the questions by the time her plan came to fruition.

“Where's the Commander?” Clarke demanded as she sauntered up to Octavia. For her part, Octavia continued sharpening her knife without even an acknowledgment of the question. “I'm serious, Octavia. Where is Lexa?”

Octavia's eyes rolled as she shook her head in quiet judgment. “Sorry, Clarke. Classified information. Grounders only.”

“Not good enough. I need to know.”

“I'm sworn to secrecy,” Octavia replied as she stood and slid her knife into the holster at her hip. “You'll have to wait until she returns later today.”

“She can't just disappear in the middle of a journey. We're all stuck wasting a day of mild weather so she can just gallivant off to god knows where. It's not ok. And people are getting mad.” So that was a stretch. Most the remaining Grounders seemed to enjoy the respite from travel.

“You are literally the only person here who cares that we've stopped. Why don't you go hang out with the others? Let the Grounders be Grounders. We gotta do what we gotta do.”

Things with Octavia had been tense since the missile incident, but Clarke had felt they were making progress. Now she wasn't so sure. Suddenly Lincoln appeared behind Octavia. He placed his hand on the small of her back and gave a silent nod. Octavia returned the gesture before giving Clarke her attention again. “We need to go, but we'll be back later. With Heda. You should just busy yourself with something until then. You could use the practice with your sword. You're actually a liability out here with us. Keeping you alive is just more work.”

Clarke ignored the mocking nature of Octavia's words. “I'm coming with you.”

“You can't,” Lincoln replied. He crossed his arms across his broad chest. The effect of the move made him look even bigger next to Octavia.

Clarke refused to be intimidated by either of them. “There's nothing you can do unless you want to hurt me. I'll just follow you if you try to make me stay.”

“The Commander forbade it.” It was Octavia who spoke now. “She could execute me for disobeying a direct order. Not that you really care about that.” That hurt; Clarke did care—more than Octavia even knew. “If you try to follow I will be forced to injure you bad enough to keep you here.”

Clarke paused, her mind searching for a solution. She wasn't really sure if Octavia would actually do something to hurt her, but it didn't seem worth the risk. After almost getting her killed, Clarke decided not to test their shaky relationship more than necessary. “The Commander would not take kindly to you hurting me,” Clarke finally offered. “She values my alliance.”

“Is that what you're calling it these days?” Octavia smirked before rolling her eyes.

Clarke ignored the jibe and continued her thought. “Besides, did she say I, specifically, was not to follow?”

“Yes. She said only the scouts and her personal guards were to be alerted.”

Clarke pressed further. “Yes, but did she mention me by name?”

“I know what you're doing, Clarke and it's stupid. A real easy way to get me killed.”

“She wouldn't kill you,” Clarke promised. _Hopefully_. “She'll be upset with me, but I'll leave you out of it. I'll say I followed you. Just _please_  let me come. I really don't want to fight you on this.”

“If we fought, I'd win.”

“And then your Heda would kill you.” Clarke smirked knowing she'd won this time. Octavia really didn't have a choice in the matter. One great thing about Lexa's feelings for her was that Clarke was now free to pretty much do as she pleased.

Lincoln t'sked before looking to Octavia. He muttered something in Trigedasleng that Clarke couldn't understand. Octavia pondered for a moment and then replied in the same language. Clarke watched the exchange as she silently cursed herself for not working harder to learn the language. Finally, Octavia turned back to her. “Fine. We'll escort you to our spot just outside the village where we'll be scouting. You can do what you want from there. But we are going to deny knowing you followed. And if you get me killed I'm going to haunt your ass until you die. And then I'll spend all eternity kicking it.”

Clarke nodded her agreement. Lincoln and Octavia gave one last sympathetic look at each other before turning and lead the way. Clarke followed a few paces behind as they led her out and away from camp. The tedious task of remaining upright in the dense forest kept Clarke's mind busy. It wasn't until a half hour later when the group neared a small quiet village that Clarke felt her stomach clench with familiar nerves. Since they met Clarke always found herself nervous around the Commander. The kiss they had shared changed everything. Now Clarke's stomach clenched with both excitement and the cold dread that set her mind worrying. She wondered if she'd ever stop worrying.

“Thank you,” Clarke expressed to her friends when they stopped dead in their tracks on the outskirts of the village. Lincoln's eyes found Clarke's. He gave her a curt nod before turning away and readying himself as a scout.

“Try not to get us killed,” Octavia mocked with a sly grin. “And maybe unbutton your jacket some. I'm sure she'll be more receptive to your disobedience if she has something to distract her.”

Clarke ducked her head to hide a crimson blush. When she looked back up, Lincoln and Octavia were back to gazing at each other, some unspoken conversation happening in their eyes. Clarke sighed before trudging past the couple. She made her way slowly down the hill, paying special attention to the overgrown tree trunks littering the ground. The last thing she needed was to fall and injure herself on a stealth mission. Plus, Octavia would never let her live it down. Clarke had more pride than to allow her eagerness to get the better of her.

When she finally landed on the soft ground at the bottom of the ravine, Clarke moved parallel to the tree line, remaining hidden. She watched as a few Grounders made their way around the village. Some carried large tree trunks on their backs, others baskets overflowing with fruits and berries. Clarke was disappointed to find the village so empty and quiet. She'd hoped the arrival of the Commander would have the villagers in a frenzy. She was surprised to find that everything was business as usual.

When Clarke made it past the tallest hut she finally found it. Indra and one of the Commander's other regular guards stood watch outside a respectable sized hut on the opposite side of the dirt road leading through the village. Clarke smiled in spite of herself, and prepared a plan.  
Deciding it best to remain unseen a little longer, at least until she knew what Lexa was up to, Clarke continued to scurry through the tree line. She followed the forest out and around the village, making sure to be as quiet as possible. Last thing she needed was to alert a less friendly scout and be impaled by a spear before finding out what Lexa was up to. When Clarke finally made it to the other side, she flipped up her hood and jogged down to back of the hut. Pressing her body against the cool wood, Clarke bent her head and tried to catch some of what was happening inside.

Footsteps on the side of the hut pulled Clarke away for a moment. She slipped her hand under the cloak and pulled it closed tightly, thanking the heavens that Lexa had let her keep it when they returned to camp. A woman with an imposing neck tattoo walked by carrying an empty basket, but paid no mind to Clarke. The whoosh of breath Clarke hadn't realized she was holding fell from her lips as soon as the woman was out of hearing range. Clarke steadied her shaking hands before pressing her ear back to the wall.

Inside Clarke could make out at least four distinct voices. They were loud and boisterous, seemingly higher in frequency than Clarke was used to hearing on Grounders. Her curiosity sparked so Clarke pressed further against the frame. Crack! Under her foot, a branch snapped in two. Clarke stood upright, her hand instinctively finding the gun in her back pocket. When no one immediately came running at her, Clarke relaxed again. Her hand fell back to her side and she resumed her espionage.

Clarke focused hard, but could not make out any words. She was just about to give up and find a new plan, when she felt the cold, hard kiss of a blade at her neck. Indra's voice caressed her ear with a mess of Trigedasleng. Clarke knew Indra would take pleasure in killing her. The realization that she may have found her chance settled like a storm in Clarke's bones. Suddenly, Indra ripped the hood from Clarke's head. When the mess of blonde tresses fell out, Indra stepped back, but kept the knife at Clarke's throat. Indra spat something in a tone that let Clarke know just how much she hated her before forcefully pushing Clarke around the corner of the hut.

Indra held Clarke's arm behind her back and pushed. When they entered Indra kicked Clarke in the legs so she fell to her knees. The knife stayed firmly in place. “Heda,” Indra said. “I found this snooping around back. She's armed.”

Clarke looked up from the ground. What she found surprised her. The hut appeared to be a school, complete with rows of small wooden desks. Lexa sat on the ground at the front of the room encircled by a handful of small children. The Commander was dressed in full war garments, her face painted in thick black; she looked out of place in such an informal setting.

“Clarke,” Lexa deadpanned, not entirely surprised to find Clarke had trailed her. “Indra, let her go.” The knife left Clarke's throat and she stood. Their eyes locked and Clarke waited. The kids around Lexa fell silent, as they waited to see how their Commander would respond to the intruder. “Well since you're here, it would be unkind not to introduce you to my youngest warriors. Children, this is Clarke of the Sky People. Her alliance in this war was instrumental in our success.”

The children peered at Clarke through thick lashes and furrowed brows. No doubt they had heard of her. The oldest of the group, a boy of about nine, glared at Clarke with a gaze that could rival even the Commander's. Clarke fidgeted, a little uncomfortable around all the prying looks. “Clarke,” Lexa continued. “These are the future warriors kom tri kru. They have all lost one or both parents in the war at Mount Weather. I've come to pay my respects.”

The pieces clicked into place. Clarke smiled. The realization that Lexa, big badass Commander Lexa, would halt all travel to an important gathering in favor of spending time with a bunch of kids was enough to send Clarke's head spinning. She felt dizzy; her heart fluttered.  
Lexa must have sensed the change in Clarke's demeanor for she smiled her closed-mouth, tight-lipped one in reply. “Come Clarke, join us.”

Clarke approached the group slowly. The kids hesitated as she neared, but Lexa's gentle reassurance appeased them. Clarke smiled at each child, making sure to look them in the eyes. They did not smile in return, but Clarke wasn't naïve enough to be insulted by their brash nature. When she looked back to Lexa she found the Commander waving Indra away. “Do you have any questions for Clarke?” she asked the kids. “I'm sure she'd love to share with you.”

Clarke sat down across from Lexa, in between the oldest boy and a very small girl. It was that little girl that spoke first. “What is it like in the sky?” she inquired, her excitement bubbling through her small frame. She fidgeted in her spot and waited for Clarke to answer.

“The view from our windows was beautiful,” Clarke replied honestly. “The world is so blue from up there. And it's huge. But living in a ship is not nearly as fun as being down here. The air isn't as crisp or clean. There are no animals. We couldn't run or explore. I much prefer it here.”

The little girl nodded excitedly before scurrying into Clarke's lap. Clarke smiled, holding the girl close and looked to Lexa. The Commander grinned in the same way Clarke had seen at the clearing after the snowfall. Her heart hammered against her ribs.

They stayed in the hut for well over an hour longer. Clarke answered question after question about her home in the sky. By the end that children, even the eldest boy, were sad to see her leave. Truthfully, Clarke was also a little sad to go. Despite the harsh conditions of their lives, the kids were so joyous, They laughed and played like they knew no loss. It gave Clarke hope for herself. Maybe one day she'd be able to find the pleasure of life again.

Lexa said her goodbyes to each child in Trigedasleng. Her tone serious and stern. Clarke wondered what piece of wisdom Lexa offered them, she wondered if Lexa's words could ever begin to heal the pain in their hearts. Mostly, Clarke wondered if the Commander could ever say something to give her some of that hope. The last to leave was the little girl that sat in Clarke's lap. She listened intently to Lexa's words even as her eyes welled up with unshed tears. Lexa patted the girl's head of black curls and bent low. Clarke watched as the Commander pulled the little one to herchest in a hug. They stayed that way for a long moment. When Lexa broke the contact the girl smiled again. This time Lexa returned the look sincerely. Appeased, the girl skipped away after the others.

They were alone now. The hut was silent as Lexa observed Clarke. Neither moved. It was Clarke who spoke first. “Do you do that often?”

“Every village we pass,” Lexa answered. “Sometimes there is only one child. Sometimes many more than the group today.” She spoke so matter-of-factly, as if what she had done was just another day of work. Clarke sensed the gravity of it though. She wasn't an expert on Grounder culture, but what Lexa had done—was doing—was different. She knew it. Everyone knew it. That's why it was sworn to secrecy. Lexa couldn't have her clan perceiving her weak.

“You're amazing.” The words escaped before Clarke could swallow them down. Her eyes widened and a blush spread out upon her cheeks. Lexa tried to remain unphased, but a small grin pulled her lips up. Her green eyes sparkled making Clarke look away out of necessity. Sometimes Lexa's gaze was too much to handle. “I meant...you're a great leader for your people,” Clarke reiterated.

“Thank you, Clarke of the Sky People.”

The formality always made Clarke feel out of place. She wondered if she'd ever become accustomed to her title. Sometimes her whole life on Earth seemed so surreal. It was like a nightmare she couldn't escape. But moments like this one, and the time in the clearing, had Clarke pondering if she was living a nightmare or not. Finn's face flashed through her mind suddenly, sucking the life from the moment. The air changed and Clarke looked away from Lexa.

Sensing the shift, Lexa gathered her wits and returned to Commander mode. “Come Clarke. We must return to camp before the rain comes. Tomorrow's travels will be slow due to ice. We must prepare.” Clarke nodded and followed silently.

Lexa's guard led the way back to camp with Lexa and Clarke trailing far enough behind to be unheard. At the rear Clarke knew Lincoln and Octavia followed, somewhere too far back to be bothersome. The rare quiet from being alone gave Clarke the motivation to breach the subject she had gone out of her way to find answers to in the first place.

“Just because you did something really sweet today doesn't mean I'm not upset with you for ignoring me these past few days.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” Lexa replied without even bothering to give Clarke the benefit of a look her way.

“Yes you do. And I want you to know that it's not ok. You can't just walk away and barricade your feelings every time you don't want to feel them.”

Lexa stopped abruptly, her hand clutching Clarke's wrist to pull her to a standstill as well. Their eyes met. “Don't use my feelings against me, Clarke,” Lexa hissed. Anger flashed like lightening in the storms of Lexa's irises. Clarke hated this look. She hated the way her instincts told her to prepare for a fight, but her body told her something so different. The wet heat pooling between her legs countered the buzzing electricity where Lexa's hand touched Clarke. Even through her layers, Clarke's wrist was on fire.

“Then don't use me,” she replied with just as much venom as Lexa had dished out. “Don't go out of your way to make me happy only to snap the doors closed in my face the minute I'm inconvenient for you.”

Lexa softened and stepped back. “You're right. I'm sorry, Clarke. You are not inconvenient though.” The apology was laced in a sincerity that caught Clarke off guard. Lexa's gentleness around her never failed to surprise Clarke. A memory flooded Clarke's mind, drowning out all rational thought. The last time Lexa had been so gentle ended in a kiss. Clarke wondered what it would be like to do it again. Would Lexa be as gentle this time? Or would she kiss Clarke the way Lincoln kissed Octavia? She suddenly needed the answers.

Clarke stepped forward, her face now close enough to taste the small gasp that fell from Lexa's throat. Clarke wanted desperately to taste Lexa again. Her body ached for it. Her heart raced and her lips were so dry. Clarke's tongue slid out to wet them. Lexa watched the action and found herself mirroring the action. When their eyes met again, Clarke leaned closer. She could feel the warmth of Lexa's lips only a breath away. It made her thirsty. Clarke tipped forward, but stopped suddenly. Her lips only grazing Lexa's before pulling back completely. Clarke's head whipped to the right so quickly it startled Lexa enough to reach for her sword. When Lexa looked to the spot Clarke had found she saw nothing.

Clarke felt the heat drain from her face. She'd seen him. And this time he wasn't helping her burn his own body or solve any of her issues. This time he was tied to that pillar. Her knife stuck out from the pool of blood on his shirt. His eyes open and full of hatred. Clarke gasped and stumbled back, tripping over a rock and falling to ground.

“Clarke!” Lexa exclaimed as she hurried to pull Clarke back to her feet. “Are you hurt? What's wrong?”

Clarke looked back at the spot, but he was gone now. She took a deep breath, calming herself before looking back to Lexa. The concern painting Lexa's face relaxed Clarke enough to gather her thoughts. “You're safe,” Lexa whispered, taking Clarke's hand in her own. “There's nothing here.”

Clarke nodded. Lexa waited patiently for the color to return to Clarke's cheeks. The soothing motion of Lexa's thumb rubbing circles over her index finger settled the storm brewing inside Clarke. “We should go,” Lexa whispered when Clarke gave Lexa's hand a reassuring squeeze. “The scouts will catch up soon.”

Clarke agreed silently, allowing Lexa to lead her away from the spot. She glanced back one more time, but Finn was no where to be seen. Clarke focused her eyes on Lexa as they slowly made their way back to the camp. She didn't let go of the Commander's warm hand in her own until they saw the first tent. Lexa gave Clarke one last concerned look before following her back to the confines of their shared responsibility.

 


	3. The Weight Of Us

Clarke was back on the Ark. She wandered the halls in search of others, but the place was completely abandoned. Her search became frantic as she plowed open door after door in search of another soul somewhere in the vicinity. The silence weighed heavy. Her own sounds, eager gasps and the panting in her lungs as she ran, muffled under a sharp ringing in her ears.

Clarke rounded the corner into the cafeteria. Gone were all the people; gone were the pleasant conversations and smells of fresh foods. Exasperated, Clarke finally began to call out in search of someone. First she shouted for her father, and then Wells. Her voice cracked and became coarse as she continued to yell for someone—anyone—to find her. Her shouts turned to screams. “Dad! Wells! Finn!”

Finn! She remembered Finn now. He would come for her, she was sure.

Clarke sprinted from the main deck, backtracking until she reached her destination. She threw open the doors leading to the line of cells where they keep the under age delinquents—where they keep her. The doors were unlocked, each as empty as the next. Tears cascaded down Clarke's cheeks as she threw open each one. No one was there. She was completely and utterly alone. The sobs overtook her as she slid down the wall to the floor. Clarke's sharp gasps echoed down the empty corridor.

“Clarke?” A soft voice interrupted. “What are you doing here Clarke?” Clarke peeled open her eyes and blinked. She was no longer in the Ark. Instead she was sitting outside Lexa's tent near TonDC. Lexa stood above her, blocking out the sun with her imposing shadow. Concern darkened the Commander's eyes.

“How did I get here?” Clarke whispered, her voice still hoarse and broken.

“You fell from the sky, remember?”

Clarke didn't remember. All she could remember was home, the Ark. She could only remember how everyone had left—how she was abandoned by everyone she loved. “They left,” she stated more to herself than the concerned but soft face above.

“They had to go. Their fight was over.” Clarke had heard those words before. Deja vu. She bit the inside of her cheek and pondered the words. Who was this girl? Why was she so kind? Lexa extended her hand and waited. Clarke looked at the fingers in front of her. They had dirt (and blood) caked under the trimmed fingernails. It contrasted with the soft and smooth the skin stretched over those small, narrow bones. Deciding to trust this strangely dressed girl, Clarke clasped her hand in the waiting one. Their hands slid against each other, but Lexa held tight. She yanked Clarke to her feet in one quick motion. “Come Clarke, our fight has just begun. We must burn the lost.”

The words rung in Clarke's hollow mind. She peered down at where her new friend held her. Their clasped hands were crimson. Blood dripped down their fingers and into the fresh dirt. Clarke stared, confused. Her hand didn't hurt, but she was bleeding. “Am I hurt?” she asked, looking to Lexa with wide eyes.

Lexa's eyes traveled down to the blood and then retreated back up. “That's their blood, Clarke.” She pointed out to the left. Clarke peered in the direction. Bodies littered the ground in piles. Some covered in blood, others burned to a crisp. Nearest her Clarke saw Finn and Wells staring back with distant, dead gazes.

Clarke screamed and sat up, the fur blankets pooling at her waist. Her eyes frantically searched for the bodies, but they were gone. She was in her tent, the small makeshift one meant for traveling. Her candles had burned down to stubs, the wicks charred away. It was dark and cold. Clarke shivered as her arm came up to wipe the sweat from her forehead. She was soaked, the furs smelling pungent from her own body odors. She missed showers. And home. And her friends—her family.

She steadied her breath for a moment. Inside her head Clarke repeated the same mantra she'd been reciting for weeks. _It was just a dream. It was just a dream. It was just a dream._ But they were getting worse. More vivid. Clarke tried to force the images out of her mind, but they were sticking like glue. With a sigh she pushed her covers off and slid onto the cold ground. She hurried over to her clothes and pulled on the layers in a hurry. She'd just managed to tie her boots when she heard footsteps outside the flap of her tent. Clarke straightened up and reached for her gun next to the bed.

“Clarke?” Lexa's voice whispered from the edge of the flap. “Are you awake?”

Clarke let out the breath she didn't know she was holding. “Yes,” she answered as she slid the gun in the waist of her pants. “Come in.”

Lexa peeled back the flap and stepped into Clarke's space. A gust of icy cold wind followed causing Clarke to shiver again. The damp hair on her forehead and neck made it seem that much colder. Lexa noticed and pulled the tent closed quickly. “I heard noises; are you alright?”

Clarke wasn't really surprised she'd woken Lexa. For the past two nights they'd set up their tents next to each other. It wasn't a plan either had made, but after the first night it just happened they silently agreed to continue the practice. Truthfully, Clarke liked knowing Lexa was so close. It reminded her of the days right before the battle at Mount Weather. They'd spent so much time together during those days that it only made sense for their lodgings to be in close proximity. Plus Lexa said it was safer for Clarke to be near her guards. Clarke was pretty sure that was just an excuse Lexa had used to justify to her people why she cared where Clarke lodged. Clarke enjoyed being neighbors again. Especially now that Lexa was in her tent. She didn't want to be alone. Not after the nightmare.

“I had a bad dream,” Clarke finally answered.

“Do these night terrors haunt you often?”

Clarke thought back to all the nights of fractured sleep. “Yes,” she admitted with a frown. She couldn't remember the last night she'd managed to get more than a few hours of sleep at once. “But why are you awake?” she added as the thought crossed her mind.

Lexa paused, her gaze flitting to the right so as not to look at Clarke. When she looked back she'd gathered whatever silent storm was brewing under the surface. If stoicism were a sport Lexa would be the world champion. “Sometimes I don't sleep well either,” Lexa admitted, emotionless and void. Then she added, “My dreams are unkind too.”

“How often do you have them?”

“Every once in a while. I've found it helps when I make time to spend doing as I please. It relaxes me. Do you have a hobby, Clarke?”

Clarke thought of her art and wondered if she'd ever find comfort in it again. Last time she'd opened the notebook Finn gave to her she'd been unable to draw anything. She'd hit a block, her creative juices snubbed out by her responsibility to her people. “No,” Clarke lied. Or maybe it was the truth. Clarke didn't have much of anything anymore. “What do you do?” Clarke asked as she moved to sit on the edge of her bed. Lexa remained upright in the corner, but Clarke noticed the way her eyes lingered over the bed a moment too long.

Lexa paused, her face unreadable. When she spoke it was soft and bashful. “I write stories.”

Clarke's nose wrinkled as she took in the confession. No matter how hard she tried she couldn't picture Lexa sitting down and using her imagination. Clarke wasn't even sure Lexa had an imagination to use. She frowned suddenly, realizing that Lexa probably just had all the fun beaten out of her from years of leadership—years of loss. She wondered if she was heading for the same fate.

“You think it's childish,” Lexa stated, her voice void of emotion again.

“No,” Clarke promised. “I think it's...” She couldn't find the right word. After a moment Clarke finished the thought as honestly as she could. “I think it's cute.”

Lexa stood up even straighter, her hand coming up to scratch the back of her neck. Lexa's face fell toward the ground and Clarke wondered if she'd managed to make the Commander nervous. She hoped so. When Lexa spoke she changed the subject. “Well if you are feeling better, I should probably head back to my tent. Tomorrow is a big day and I'd like to at least try and sleep a little.”

Clarke frowned. She was still too keyed up from her nightmare to go back to bed. Plus, she liked having Lexa around. It slowed her thoughts and gave her someone else to focus on. “Stay the night with me,” Clarke suggested without thinking first. Her eyes widened as the words fell from her lips. Lexa, for her part, only cleared her throat and shuffled awkwardly in her place. “I meant...would you like to sleep in here?” Lexa only stared as a reply. “With me?” Clarke added in a whisper. Embarrassment seeped into her bones when Lexa didn't immediately answer. Clarke was pretty sure she'd finally done it; she'd finally crossed the line of what Lexa would tolerate from her. Clarke kicked herself inwardly for all the mixed signals.

“Sure, Clarke,” she finally answered. Lexa, always the one without shame or embarrassment, took three sure steps toward Clarke's bed. As she went she dropped her cloak to the floor and slid out of her boots. Clarke's eyes trailed up Lexa's sleeping garments. Her arms were bare and the shirt cut low on her chest. Clarke took in the tattoo on Lexa's right arm and wondered what it meant. Her eyes fell to Lexa's chest where she could see the slight hint of cleavage teasing her. She licked her lips and stood. She peeled off the layers she had fitted to herself minutes ago and crawled into the far side of the small bed.

Lexa swallowed hard. Clarke watched the way the muscles on her throat contracted. The bed suddenly felt hot. Clarke longed to peel away the t-shirt and sweats she wore. She wanted to bare for Lexa. More than that though, Clarke wanted to see more of Lexa. She longed to trace the tattoo with her tongue. The desire to explore Lexa's body like a map hung heavy in the air.

When Lexa settled into the remaining space on the bed, Clarke pulled the fur blankets up and over them until only their heads poked out. It was better this way, not actually seeing the soft pliable skin of her bed mate. Lexa was sure not to touch any part of Clarke as she settled in on her side. Clarke mirrored the position; her knees tucked up enough to brush against Lexa's. It sent fire up her leg and low in her stomach. _Maybe this wasn't such a great idea_ , Clarke pondered.

Lexa broke the silence, her eyes not leaving Clarke's as she spoke. “There has to be something you love to do.”

“There's not,” Clarke replied. “Not anymore.” It was an afterthought—a sad reminder that she was not who she used to be. Clarke sighed and rolled away from Lexa. It was too much to look at her and see those eyes. Lexa's gaze was penetrating and intense and Clarke really couldn't take it right then.

Lexa sighed in response to the way Clarke had shut down. She reached out, brushing a few of Clarke's golden hair off her shoulder. The pads of Lexa's fingers on her shoulder reignited that dull heat in Clarke's stomach. Just as quickly as they were there, they retreated. Clarke felt the bed shift as Lexa rolled over. Clarke glanced over her shoulder and felt guilty. She'd given Lexa a hard time for being broody and distant and now here she was doing the same.

Still not able to admit her failings as an artist, Clarke decided to give a silent apology. She rolled back over and slid closer. Her body pressed up against Lexa's rigid back. She slid her left arm over Lexa's and linked their fingers at Lexa's taut stomach. A whoosh of breath escaped from Lexa's mouth as her body relaxed. Clarke settled in, marveling in the way Lexa's hair smelt both of fire and ash, as well as flowers and vanilla. Her heart hammered away at her chest, but Clarke ignored it. She wanted to be this close despite the way her body physically reacted.

When Lexa spoke her words were muffled and drowsy. The threat of sleep blanketed her speech. Clarke had to listen closely to understand. “You can't hide what you love forever.” Clarke smiled. “I'll find out.” And then she was asleep. Clarke could tell by the way her chest moved in slow even breaths. Clarke smiled again and pulled her closer until sleep overtook her as well.

Two days later Clarke found a pad of rough paper, bound by rope in her bag. When she opened to the first page a note had been scrawled in choppy, but precise writing. _Clarke, I may not know what you love to do yet, but here is some of what I love. Maybe it will inspire you. Lexa._  
Clarke flipped through the book, finding page after page covered in words. A smile peeled the corners of her mouth up. Clarke peered up and searched the camp. Around her everyone was assembling their tents and preparing for the night. Her eyes found Lexa across the way. Even with all the hustle of people going about their business Lexa's gaze was already on Clarke. She gave her curt nod before bending to pick up her own bag. Clarke smiled in return before disappearing into the woods. As night descended on the crew, Clarke soaked up every thought and word Lexa had trusted her with.


	4. You're Just A Chance I Take (To Keep On Dreaming)

The wind whistled and shook the barren branches overhead. Clarke's hood toppled off her head, the gust propelling her hair across her eyes and blocking her vision. She pulled the hood back on and trudged along the uneven, slick expanse. Clarke was near the back of the group, behind Bellamy and Octavia. Ahead she watched the way Lexa led the group, her stance powerful and upright even as the weather slowed them considerably. The hills were treacherous, made more dangerous by the glossy coating of ice. The horses begrudgingly ascended the mountainous woods, their hooves wobbling under the weight. Clarke wondered for the millionth time today why they were pushing it. Her gut clenched for the hundredth time that day, a combination of hunger and fear of the upcoming peril. She was sure something was bound to go wrong in the current conditions.

Clarke's horse panted out white puffs as it strained to find good footing. It neighed heavily and grunted. Clarke reached out, her hands covered by the battle gloves Lexa had given her, and rubbed his head between his eyes. “Easy, Boy,” she whispered. “You can do this.”

“Hey Princess,” Bellamy called out, his tone serious despite the nature of the nickname. By this point Clarke had accepted her fate to always be known as the princess of the group. It was not a nickname she'd have chosen if given a choice at all, but she supposed it was better than some. At least most people didn't say it as a way of mocking her anymore. “Do you think maybe you can convince the Commander to wrap it up for a day? It's cold and I don't think my horse is feeling it.” The brown mare gave it's agreement to the sentiment with a stern buck, causing Bellamy to grip tightly to its mane as he slid precariously on the saddle. This whole horse riding thing was new to them all; Clarke wasn't sure she'd stay upright if her horse were to loose control either.

“I don't think she'd listen,” Clarke admitted, her gaze immediately finding Lexa again. It was the truth. Everyone knew Lexa had been on a mission for the last two days, insisting despite terrible weather conditions that they press on. The previous day Indra finally managed to convince Lexa to halt the travels in mid afternoon, but only after the rain turned to hail big enough to leave welts atop everyone's skin. Clarke was still sore from the pelting she'd taken in the time it took her to assemble her tent.

“She'd listen to you,” Octavia muttered as she peeled her hood off and threw a glance over her shoulder.

“She's right, Clarke,” Bellamy added. “She listens to you.” He had a point; Lexa was partial to Clarke's desires. Clarke tried not to think too much on the way Octavia seemed to sense the less than professional nature of Lexa's feelings, but now it seemed Bellamy had caught on too. She wondered how many people knew, and how much they'd figured out. “I think she's going soft,” he added after a moment, his tone soft and pensive.

“She just has a soft spot,” Octavia replied to her brother with a smirk that Clarke couldn't see, but definitely could hear in her voice. “She's apparently got a thing for princesses.”

Clarke rolled her eyes and veered her horse beside Bellamy. She urged it along at a faster pace, shooting the Blake siblings a death glare as she passed. Their teasing about Lexa worried her. Clarke didn't know what exactly was happening with the Commander, but she knew whatever it was could shatter into a million pieces if someone so much as touched it wrong. She knew Lexa wouldn't take kindly to gossip. Clarke wasn't really sure she had made enough leeway with Lexa to feel comfortable with others supplementing what was sure to be false information about them either. She sighed and tucked the worry away in the same compartment she'd been tucking most her thoughts these days.

A ruckus ahead startled Clarke out of her brooding. Her eyes shot up in time to watch as three different horses near the front of the group slipped backwards, one into the next. The commotion spooked the other horses nearby, causing a few riders to be thrown. Clarke's eyes immediately searched for Lexa. She watched as Lexa's body was tossed like a limp doll through the air and into a tree branch before it landed on the ground with a thunderous thud.

“Lexa!” Clarke yelped as she slid off her horse. Clarke ran up the hill as fast as she could on the ice, he hands clutching to tree trunks to steady her as she ascended. By the time she reached Lexa a small group of Grounders had assembled around their leader. Clarke could hear Lexa's voice, though strained, commanding them to move. Clarke pushed through and knelt at Lexa's side.

“Where does it hurt?” Clarke huffed. She scanned Lexa's upright body, but could not see any visible injuries. She'd need to bathe, but otherwise Lexa was not holding herself anywhere. If it weren't for the grimace Clarke would not have known Lexa were hurt at all. Lexa softened, her rigid spine relaxing, when Clarke appeared.

“I'm fine,” Lexa stated as she steadied her hands on the ground. She tried to stand, but immediately collapsed back to a sitting position. Her hands gripped hard at her stomach and her breath caught. Lexa grit her teeth to try to keep the pain at bay.

“I think you broke a few ribs,” Clarke assessed as her fingers began to prod softly over Lexa's abdomen. Lexa didn't respond, but allowed Clarke to work. “Are you having trouble breathing?” Lexa nodded in her silent, stoic way. “Take a deep breath,” Clarke commanded. Lexa obeyed. “Let it out.” Clarke slid her hands to Lexa's other side and continued her search. She knew when she found the spot by the way Lexa gasped. The muscles, tinder and swollen, under Lexa's left breast clenched and shivered beneath Clarke's fingers. Clarke dropped her hands from the spot immediately. “Lexa, you've broken at least one rib. I will need to wrap your body and you have to take it easy. We can't go any further today.”

Clarke heard a few scoffs from the group, but her eyes were glued to Lexa's face. Lexa wouldn't look at her, but she could see the thoughts spinning figure eights in Lexa's eyes. For someone so intent on never showing emotion, Lexa sure didn't know how to stop her eyes from expressing it all. Lexa clenched her jaw before speaking. “Ban osir au,” she commanded. “Indra, make camp at the first good place ahead. Clarke and I will follow behind.”

Indra nodded before hopping back on her horse. “Lexa, you can't ride like this. I can't let you get back on your horse.”

“Then we will walk.” Clarke could see there was no point in arguing. Lexa had already begun to peel off her shoulder armor and the long cloak cascading down her back. Her movements were slow and precise. Clarke knew the movements were probably painful for Lexa, but she had a determined glint in her eye.

Bellamy and Octavia were the last to pass by. Bellamy gave Clarke a stern nod as he passed. Octavia, for her part, winked at Clarke blew a mocking kiss. “Have fun, Princess,” she tossed over her shoulder before disappearing into the trees.

“She mocks you?” Lexa asked, no longer hiding the pain in her voice. Her fingers clutched the bottom of her top layer and peeled it away. Clarke helped Lexa pull her arms out without much movement. Finally Clarke slid the garment over Lexa's head and tossed it to the ground. In any other moment the act would have felt sensual, but Clarke was focused on the task at hand. “They call you princess, but they don't say it with the reverence such a title deserves,” Lexa added as an afterthought. Clarke wasn't sure if it was a question or an observation.

“I have to take off this too,” Clarke mused, her hands clutching the thin sleeveless final layer covering Lexa. “Can I?” she asked, realizing this would be the first time she saw Lexa in some semblance of nudity. Clarke felt her cheeks flare red; she kicked herself internally for being so easily read. Lexa nodded and waited, this time too sore to help the process. It took Clarke a long minute to draw Lexa's arms out of the top without hurting her further. Finally, Clarke peeled the layer away. She steadied her breath, looking only into Lexa's eyes.

“Should I remove this too?” Lexa asked as she looked down. Clarke finally allowed herself to explore the tan expanse of skin over Lexa's shoulders and across her stomach. Clarke thanked the heavens silently that Lexa was wearing what appeared to be the Grounder version of a bra. It was stitched from the same material as the gloves they both wore. The material was rough, but warm. A hint of cleavage poked out of the material, but Clarke ignored it.

“No. I can work around it,” Clarke answered. “I need you to just relax for a second. I'll be back.” Clarke hurried to where her horse stood waiting. She slipped her hands in her bag and dug, looking for the small first aid kit she'd brought along. Her hands found it after a moment's search and she hurried back. Lexa tried to hide her shivers, but Clarke was too observant. “I'll be quick. Then you can dress.”

True to her word, Clarke fitted a stretchy bandage over Lexa's abdomen with the ease of someone with practice. When it was in place she helped Lexa dress again. Finally she gathered the horses and allowed Lexa to talk her through tying them together. At last she helped Lexa stand. Clarke held tightly to the horse's reign with one hand while gripping tight at Lexa with the other.

They walked at a dreadfully slow pace. Lexa, no matter how hard she tried not to appear weak, continued to trip and sometimes even fall to her knees. Her breathe came out in short puffs and groans. When Lexa's legs gave out a third time Clarke had enough. “Ok, this isn't working. We're riding my horse. I'll ride behind you and keep you upright.”

“I can't go to my people like that,” Lexa exclaimed, looking angry at the mere suggestion.

“We don't have a choice, Lexa. It's getting dark.” Lexa glanced around and took in her environment. The sun was making it's slow descent. She figured they had less than an hour until the blanket of nightfall would cover them. And without the sun for warmth, Lexa knew they'd freeze. “Come on, I'm not going to die out here because you're stubborn.”

“My people will perceive me as weak.”

“You are weak! In case you haven't noticed, you have at least one broken rib. I'm guessing more like two or three based on the swelling. And besides that your whole side and back is covered in bruises, your collarbone never really got a chance to heal properly from the gorilla, and who knows what else you’re hiding under all your armor. You have more scars than anyone I have ever met. Some of them are little burns all over your shoulder that look self-inflicted. And you're being silly and stubborn. I'm cold. I'm tired from supporting your ass all afternoon and I'm hungry. So suck it up and get on the freaking horse.”

Clarke hadn't meant to rip into Lexa that way, but nothing she said was untrue so she stood her ground. Lexa gulped hard and steadied herself again. Her eyes pleaded with Clarke in a silent appeal for something different—something raw and sexual. Clarke could sense the shift. Lexa liked—no longed—for this side of Clarke. The realization only aroused Clarke further. But now was not the time. Lexa was hurt and night was upon them; time would not stop for such trivial matters. Clarke stepped back and waited for Lexa to go to the horse. Assisting Lexa on getting onto the horse proved a bigger challenge than Clarke thought it would be, but eventually they managed, but not before Clarke heard what she sure was a string of curses in Trigedasleng fall from Lexa's lips.

Clarke settled herself behind Lexa. The shared body heat warmed them both immediately as they set off. The horses worked together to pull them along. The girls settled into a more relaxed travel, though Clarke still had to work overtime to keep them both atop the horse.

“I didn't mean to be rude back there,” Clarke commented to break the prolonged silence. “I was just tired and more than ready to be done with all this traveling.”

“It's taking us longer than we initially expected,” Lexa replied. “The weather is usually not this bad yet. We would not have made the trek had we known it would be this way. But in two weeks time we celebrate Krisma.”

“What's that?”

“No one's told you?” The surprise in Lexa's voice caused Clarke to smile. She could sense Lexa's excitement without needing to see her face. “Every year at the winter solsta we celebrate Krisma. We gather for two days. On the first we prepare. We gather the foods and prepare the drinks. On the second day we celebrate. We gather together and eat and drink. It's the two days of the year no one attacks each other. It's a treaty that started the first year after the great bombs killed most the people. All the survivors...all our ancestors...they gathered and celebrated. So we celebrate too.”

“Sounds like Christmas,” Clarke replied with a smile. She hadn't really thought much about the impending holiday, but now she smiled at the realization it was nearly that time. Christmas on the Ark had always been a fun celebration of life and love. It was always about hope for the future. Clarke suddenly realized how little hope she had left—how much being on Earth had drained her of her spirit. “Do you exchange gifts?”

“Gifts?” Lexa asked. “It is not a naming day celebration, Clarke. It's Krisma.”

“So you don't gift each other?”

“Of course not. Do the Sky People give each other gifts on Krisma?”

The disbelief in Lexa's voice caused Clarke to smile. “Yes. Christmas and birthdays.”

“Birthdays are like naming days, yes?”

“I suppose so.”

“So you give gifts twice a year?” Lexa posed as she processed their cultural differences. “What kind of gifts?”

“On the Ark we didn't have a lot to work with so we were always encouraged to make something. I used to draw pictures for my friends and family. Everyone was different.” Clarke tried to suppress the memories, but they pulsed through her reminding her of times as a child when she'd open gifts with her parents on Christmas morning. They were happy then.

“We hunt for each other,” Lexa mused. The words drew Clarke out of her mind. “And if we really want to show our appreciation or admiration for the person we celebrate, we can gift them a sword or a tool of some sort. It's considered a great honor if someone gifts you with something of theirs that pertains to their duty.”

“So what would I need to give you then?” Clarke asked, not fully understanding the traditions.

“You're the princess of your people. You do not need to give gifts.”

“But if I did?”

“You could give something you heal with because you are a healer. But you, Clarke, are also a warrior so you could give a weapon. If you were to give someone something but, like I said, you would never have to.”

“I don't feel like I'm either of those things,” Clarke admitted. “I'm not a princess. And I'm not a warrior. I fight because I have to, not because I want to. And I'm not a healer really. My mom is the healer. I just do what needs to be done. I survive.”

“Why do they call you princess,” Lexa asked again, this time not ready to let Clarke forget to answer.

Clarke sighed and instinctively slid in closer to Lexa. “They first started calling me that as a way of teasing me. They didn't like me when we first crashed here. They didn't like that my mom is on the council and I come from a place of privilege.”

“Do they still feel that way?”

“No,” Clarke assured. “They trust me now. And I've earned the title I guess.”

“But they still tease. Octavia mocked you earlier.”

“Octavia mocks everyone. She doesn't mean any harm by it.”

Lexa was silent for a moment. “But if you are their princess and they want you to be, they should respect you.”

“I don't demand respect,” Clarke admitted. “I want them to feel comfortable around me. I'm not their leader because of some spirit inside me. We're different. I'm their leader because I stepped up and lead. They follow because I've proven myself. But they could turn on me and I would be fine. I'd be hurt, but I don't have to lead them. They don't have to follow.”

Lexa fell silent again. She was so quiet Clarke begun to think she fell asleep. Suddenly her quite, devoid voice filled the air. “I don't think princess is a fitting title for you.”

“No?” Clarke asked. “What then Commander, do tell, would you call me?”

“Kwin Nomon.”

“And what does that mean?” Lexa spoke with absolute conviction and honesty. “The Mother Queen.” The seriousness of the tone caught Clarke a little off guard.

She paused, processing the title. “I'm not a mother,” Clarke supplied. “But I do prefer queen to princess.”

“You are like a mother to your people. You protect them. You trust them. You lead them. Clarke, you care for them with love and respect. You are the Mother. And you are their Queen as well. You are the Queen that fell from the sky.”

Clarke smiled and held tighter to Lexa. Her moods lifted and she felt some of the hope return. Christmas was coming. Lexa was near and safe at the moment. And Clarke knew she had lost a lot, but she suddenly realized she may not have to lose everything. There was still good in her life. Lexa leaned back and buried her head on Clarke's shoulder. She turned and let out a deep breath of air on Clarke's neck. When Lexa spoke, her lips trailed the sensitive dip of skin where Clarke's shoulder and neck met. “You will love Krisma, Clarke of the Sky People. You'll see,” she mumbled before a deep yawn overtook her. After a few moments Clarke felt Lexa's body soften against her own. As sleep overtook the injured Commander Clarke smiled before planting a soft kiss to Lexa's forehead. In the distance Clarke could make out the fire from camp. It flickered like a beacon, calling her home to her new life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took so long for an update! If you stayed with me thanks a ton. Also, I hope I didn't butcher the Trigedaslang too badly.


	5. I Want To Be Winning (Way Out Of Sync From The Beginning)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I promised a quick update. I had it written, but then I forgot to upload. On the bright side, there will be the final chapter coming very very soon. I have some other things I'd like to work on so I need to wrap this up first. Hope you like it and thanks for sticking around.

Harsh winter winds and heavy snowfall overtook the land forcing all travels to stop for three days. Other than the guard keeping watch no one bothered to leave the warmth of their tents for anything other than to relieve themselves and for food when the hunters returned. The solitude allowed Clarke time to busy herself with the gift from Lexa. She spent her lonesome hours by candlelight, soaking up the tales Lexa's mind had invented. Clarke was pleased to see how Lexa had gone through and translated the Trigedasleng portions for her ahead of time. The care and thought she'd put into the gift encouraged Clarke to do something in return. It was for that very reason that Clarke busied herself on a return gift—something she could give during the Krisma celebrations.

By the time the weather found a nice respite Krisma was less than a week away. Lexa, though still moving a little slower than usual, pushed the group to travel faster and harder. Luck would have it that the weather seemed to bow to Lexa's will. Each passing day was warmer than the previous. By the time the first day of Krisma was upon them the snow had melted and the midday sun warmed the Earth enough for the travelers to go without cloaks.

The first day of Krisma celebrations was busy like Lexa had said it would be. Clarke watched as the Grounders around her came alive, working together to construct structures big enough to host them all. Teams went out to hunt and returned with enough food for days. Even Lexa, usually flaked by a guard and encouraged not to work, remained in the fray. Clarke kept her distance, helping where she could but afraid to get in the way of the perfectly synchronized machine. Instead, she watched from the sidelines; she observed the teamwork, the camaraderie, and the ease at which the Grounders interacted amongst each other when the threat of violence was gone. It all reminded her of her home in the sky before everything had gone wrong. As she reminisced Clarke felt, for the first time, a joy for the nostalgia. Gone was that accompanying sadness and in its place was only the remaining joy. Sure, things would never be that good again, but this really wasn't so bad. Maybe someday, she thought, it would be like this always on Earth.

On the second day of Krisma celebrations Clarke awoke to laughter and shouts of joy. A rich, thick aroma tickled her nose and her stomach grumbled as she dressed. When Clarke left her tent she was greeted by the bright morning sun and the scent of bacon. Four fire pits had been constructed in the middle of camp, each roasting a different animal over the flames. Around her those already awake sat in clusters, talking and laughing freely.

“Would you like some pig, Sky Princess?” one of the Grounders with big dark eyes asked Clarke with a smile. She held out a stick with a huge chunk of meat fastened to it. Clarke took the food with a nod of gratitude. She ate in a hurry as her eyes scanned the crowd. It was only when they landed on Lexa that she realized she'd been searching. Despite the urge to go over to her immediately, Clarke resisted in favor of watching Lexa from afar.

Lexa stood leaning against a tree on the outskirt of the camp. She looked relaxed and happy. Without all the armor she stood a little more at ease, her shoulders slack and arms crossed at her chest. A half smile pulled the corners of her lips up. Even at a distance Clarke knew that Lexa's eyes would be bright and dancing under the lashes. Clarke longed to cross the camp to her, but didn't want to interrupt the moment. So she watched and waited until Lexa's eyes found hers. When recognition came Lexa smiled a full toothy grin and pushed off the tree. She made three long strides before Indra intercepted her. Clarke's shoulders fell as she frowned at the interruption. Lexa shot an apologetic gaze at Clarke over Indra's shoulder before focusing on whatever duty she was surely expected to attend to.

“This is something else, huh?” Bellamy said, suddenly standing at Clarke's side. His eyes roamed the camp and settled on a tray of berries near one of the fires. “They really do go all out.”

“I love it,” Clarke admitted.

Octavia skipped up to Clarke's other side, linking their arms together in a show of camaraderie. “You haven't seen anything yet. Lincoln said there will be music and dancing and debauchery come nightfall.”

Lincoln was right. After a day filled with playful sporting events and more food than Clarke had eaten on the ground combined night fell and the real party began. Some Grounders pulled out makeshift instruments while a couple others had ancient ones clearly passed down through the generations. Upbeat music filled the camp with a joyous cacophony. Grounders began to dance in practiced steps, clapping and whooping as the music swelled and dipped.

Bellamy, Octavia, and Clarke sat around a fire on the opposite end of the party observing the events unfold. Most the Grounders were passing cups filled with what was sure to be a strong alcohol. They drank heavily and their movements got sloppy. Clarke watched with a happy smile and her own cup in hand. Her head was light and her cheeks warm. When Lincoln came to sit with Octavia he brought with him more of the drink to refill their cups. Octavia giggled and leaned against his sturdy chest.

“Is this always what it's like?” she quipped with another giggle and a well-timed belch.

The group shared a laugh at Octavia's expense. When the laughter had died down, Lincoln replied, “On Krisma we celebrate. But when we aren't in war time some of the villages gather regularly for festivities and celebrations. Krisma is the biggest though.”

“Why has Lexa been busy all day?” Clarke asked before she could remind herself not to sound so eager. She'd barely seen the Commander all day and the alcohol clouded Clarke's mind and removed her inhibition. “Surely she gets the day off too.”

Octavia rolled her eyes as a response, but Clarke ignored it. Her eyes focused only on Lincoln as she waited for an answer. He fixed her with a stoic gaze before responding. “The Commander always makes sure to spend time with everyone on Krisma. She looks after her people always. If she has not made it to you Clarke it is only because she's busy. Not because she does not wish to see you.”

Clarke's stomach lept at the words. She knew she must have looked a fool smiling like an idiot, but Lincoln's words had been exactly what she wanted to hear. To hide some of her shame, Clarke busied herself with her drink, taking three large swigs of the burning liquid and grimacing as a result. As if Lexa had heard Lincoln's words from across the camp she appeared suddenly, squeezing in next to Clarke and Bellamy.

“Are you having a good time, Clarke?” she asked. Lexa's eyes reflected the flames giving her already commanding nature even more authority. Clarke's mind wandered momentarily to a place where she could command the Commander—where she could watch those eyes bow to her. A fresh new wave of nerves exploded through Clarke as she came back to the present. She looked forward at the fire to stop her thoughts from running away. Her skin buzzed where Lexa's knee pressed against her own.

“This is great,” she finally answered. “I like this.” Clarke lifted the cup to her lips and took another sip.

“Just be careful, Clarke. That stuff will catch up with you.” Lexa, always the lecturer, admonished Clarke kindly. Despite her never-ending lessons, Clarke enjoyed the company. And secretly she enjoyed the way Lexa always tried to make her better. Even when they disagreed Clarke knew Lexa only bothered to lecture because she wanted the very best for Clarke. It came from a place of respect. Unlike when Abby admonished her, Lexa wasn't ever trying to belittle her. It was one of the many things Clarke admired about her companion.

“How are you feeling?” Clarke asked, changing the subject. Her eyes traveled down to Lexa's side and attempted t see if their was any noticeable trauma through the clothes.

“I'm feeling much better, Clarke. Thank you for asking. Your bandage has worked very well.”

“Are the bruises gone?” Clarke had wanted to care for Lexa during the days since the fall, but Lexa had forbade it. She said it was bad enough they rode into camp together on one horse with Clarke holding her up. She could not be seen as weak anymore. Clarke gave in to Lexa's wishes on account that Lexa promised to take it easy. For the most part Clarke could tell Lexa had obeyed. Her strength seemed to be returning more and more every day. But then again, Clarke knew Lexa was stubborn and would put on a brave face even if the pain was intolerable. It was for that reason Clarke continued to worry. “I could take a look if you'd like.” And maybe, Clarke had ulterior motives to wanting to remove Lexa's top.

“Wow Clarke, that was subtle,” Bellamy taunted with a lazy smirk.

“Should we leave?” Octavia added with another giggle. Even Lincoln chuckled at their taunts.

Lexa frowned and opened her mouth to reprimand the group, but Clarke interjected. “Well maybe if you all weren't always getting hurt I wouldn't have to spend so much time checking you all out. I really should start charging for my services.”

“It's a good thing you're a good person, Princess. You've saved a lot of lives.”

“What? Like yours?”

“For a start.”

“And mine,” Lexa added, her tone too serious for the mood. “Clarke saved my life before she could even trust me.”

“Can we trust you?” Bellamy replied, his tone intentionally light-hearted albeit forced.

Clarke flinched, worried he'd overstepped, but Lexa only sighed and nodded once. After a long pause, Lexa added, “I do not wish to hurt Clarke.”

“And what of our people?” Bellamy pried. Clarke shot him a warning glare, but he ignored it. “Do you intend to hurt them?”

“An attack on the Sky People is an attack on Clarke. I will do whatever I need to protect my people first, but as far as I'm concerned this alliance is of the utmost importance.” Lexa glanced to Clarke with a firm, but soft gaze. Clarke smiled shyly, realizing how little she deserved the way Lexa treated her.

“Well in that case,” Octavia remarked with a smirk. “We should drink to the alliance.” She held her cup up and waited until the others followed suit. “To the alliance!”

“To the alliance!” the rest cheered before finishing off their drinks.

Some time and many drinks later Clarke sat in the same spot with a heavy head and blurred eyes. The fires all around camp had long died down to coals. Most of the Grounders had retired to their tents. Those that hadn't milled about in quiet conversations occasionally broken by boisterous laughter. Octavia and Lincoln had long since disappeared. Bellamy had stuck around longer, but now was off speaking near the tree line with one of the Grounder women he'd rescued inside the Mountain. Clarke sat close to Lexa without speaking. The silence was welcome and comforting. Clarke felt at ease despite the drunken haze.

“I'm absolutely intoxicated,” Clarke admitted.

“I can tell,” Lexa replied with a smile. “I told you not to drink so much.”

“What kind of party would it be if I didn't drink?”

Lexa smiled and pivoted so she could look at Clarke fully. “I apologize for not spending more time with you today. The Commander had to attend to her people. But Lexa wished only to be near you.”

Clarke grinned and for the millionth time felt her stomach somersault. “Did you just speak in third person?” she posed in between giggles. “You are so cute.”

Lexa frowned. “I am not _cute_.”

“Yes you are.”

“No. I am not.”

“You are,” Clarke stated. “You've got everyone fooled because of your cool armor and fighting skills, but underneath all that you're just a big mushy marshmallow.” Lexa frowned again and bit her bottom lip. “It's not a bad thing,” Clarke added softly, reaching out to run her finger over Lexa's bottom lip. They paused and Clarke could've sworn the world stopped around her. Her heart thumped away in her chest so loud wondered if the whole camp could hear.

“ Clarke...” Lexa didn't finish her thought. The words fell away with whatever resolve Clarke had left. 

“Come with me,” Clarke demanded. “I have a gift for you.” She stood, pulling Lexa up at the same time. Clarke hurried along, stumbling on her uneasy feet as she tugged Lexa toward her tent. When the pair were safely inside and out of view, Clarke paused. She faced Lexa full on, taking a moment to peer into Lexa's slightly confused eyes. They were hungry with something else though. It was the same look Clarke  ha d seen that day when they'd kissed. Clarke clenched her fists and steadied her breath. “I'm done waiting,” she finally said as she stepped forward. Lexa didn't move. Her breath hitched in her throat as Clarke closed the gap.

Lexa's lips were soft and supple, but tight-lipped and confused. Clarke kissed her with the aggression of weeks of longing—of pining and denying. Lexa softened after a moment and sighed into Clarke's mouth. In response Clarke pulled Lexa closer by the small of her back. She slipped her tongue past her own teeth and tapped at Lexa's bottom lip; Lexa answered the silent question by opening her mouth and allowing Clarke's tongue to slip in.

Clarke, now hungry for more, pulled Lexa closer and kissed her harder. Lexa attempted to regain control and slow the kiss, but Clarke fought the change. She pushed hard, knocking Lexa to her makeshift bed. Lexa gasped as Clarke clumsily slid herself over Lexa's body and set about kissing her neck roughly.

“Cl—Clarke?” Lexa gasped as she tried to sit up, but Clarke pinned her back down. “Ow, Clarke!” she hissed when Clarke's hands gripped too hard at her ribcage.

“Sorry,” Clarke mumbled into her neck as she continued her descent. Lexa moaned at the sensation, but continued to struggle under Clarke's embrace.

“Clarke,” she panted as her hands slipped into the blonde hair cascading like sun rays over her own. “Clarke stop.” It took every bit if strength for Lexa to say it, but the words worked. Clarke, choosing not to move, perched herself over Lexa, her glossy eyes finding Lexa's green ones. “We can't do this,” Lexa admitted after a moment. She gave a soft push and rolled Clarke away from her. “Not tonight.”

“And why not?” Clarke asked with a twinge of pain in her voice. “Have you changed your mind?”

“Of course not,” Lexa replied as she stood and faced the other way. “You're intoxicated Clarke.”

“I am aware.”

“And you are not in a good place to give your answer. You asked me to wait and I did, but I am not going to allow you to use me tonight.”

“I'm ready, Lexa. I'm ready for you.”

“You say that now...”

Clarke groaned and stood. She turned Lexa around and forced her to look into her eyes. “I won't change my mind.”

“Regardless, you're not in a good place to decide right now.” Lexa's tone was firm and laced with authority.

Clarke could feel the anger boiling up inside her. Rage raced through her veins and she felt the longed to lash out. “Stop lecturing me!” she shouted suddenly. “I don't need your protection! I'm not a child!”

“I never said that.”

“Why do you do this?” Clarke hissed, not even really sure what she was asking about.

“Why do I do what?”

Clarke frowned and struggled to find the words in her muddled mind. “You keep playing games with me. When I want you, you don't want me; and you only want me when I can't want you. I'm sick of the games.”

“I do not play games,” Lexa hissed, her eyes flashing a warning.

“You've been playing along with me since we've met. Face it, Lexa, this is all one big game we're playing at! When are you going to give up and let me win?”

Lexa stepped back with her hands clenched at her sides. “Is that was this is to you, Clarke? A chance to win.”

“Maybe it is,” Clarke replied softly as the fight drained out of her. She looked to Lexa and saw double. Suddenly she felt sick. It occurred to her that she'd started a fight she didn't want to have. But Lexa's rejection had hurt her. She wanted to hurt Lexa back.

“So that's what this is to you. Conquer the Commander. Make her love you so you can what? Take her army. Win?” Clarke shook her head as she realized the full emphasis of the conclusion Lexa had reached. It was the completely wrong  conclusion , but Clarke couldn't figure out how to form the right words  to retract her statement. It was too late. Lexa was backing away with unshed tears forming in her eyes. “ I should've known.”

“Wait. Lexa!” Clarke shouted as Lexa turned to leave the tent. “That's not what I meant.”

“It doesn't matter, Clarke,” Lexa replied without turning to look at her. “I'll keep this alliance because it benefits both our people, but as for us...”

“Please don't do this,” Clarke begged. She sobbed once and reached out to touch Lexa's shoulder.

Lexa recoiled from the touch and stepped out of reach. When she spoke her voice was hoarse and broken. “As for us, we are over.” And with that Clarke watched as Lexa hurried out of the tent in a flash.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Clarke woke the morning after Krisma with a head-splitting migraine. She rolled over, burying her face in the makeshift pillow, and tried to remember her night. Two light eyes brimming with tears flooded Clarke's memory and forced her upright. Her stomach lurched so Clarke fell back to her back. “Ughhhh,” she grumbled as she attempted to steady her breathing and calm the tides in her stomach. When the moment passed, Clarke arose slowly and dressed for the day.

  
Most of camp was already in motion; around her Grounders worked to disassemble camp and prepare for the next stretch of travels. It wouldn't be long now until they were to reach their destination and hold the deliberations for an alliance with Clarke's people. Despite Clarke's nerves at what was to come, on that morning she was solely focused on finding Lexa to apologize for her outburst.

  
Clarke scurried around camp in a rush, but could not find Lexa anywhere. The Commander's tent had long since been packed down and her horse was ready on the outskirts of camp. Clarke hurried about, searching frantically until she was forced to stop. Octavia barked orders at Clarke to pack up her tent because they were setting off in less than an hour. Giving up, Clarke obeyed and set about her work.

  
Lexa and Indra strode into camp at the same time everyone began to mount their horses in preparation to leave. Clarke tried desperately to make eye contact with Lexa, but was unsuccessful. Lexa, in turn, climbed upon her horse and led the charge out of camp with two guards at her front. The group soon fell in line.

  
The ride was mostly silent as they made their way further North. Clarke's headache slowly abated the more water and food breaks she took as they went. By evening she felt much better despite her sadness at being unable to reach Lexa all day. When they stopped to set up camp again, Clarke bustled straight to Lexa.

  
“Can we talk?” she asked as she approached the Commander from behind. Lexa froze, her back rigid and firm. When she turned she'd regained her composure.

  
“I'm busy, Clarke.”

  
Unphased, Clarke replied, “When you're not busy then?”

  
Lexa bit the inside of cheek and looked off over Clarke's shoulder. When she spoke her tone was determined and colder than Clarke had ever heard directed at her. “I'll be busy until after the delegations.”

  
“You can't avoid me forever.” Clarke hoped she was right.

  
“I'm not avoiding you, Clarke. I'm busy.”

  
“I want to apologize,” Clarke admitted. “I'm so sor--”

  
“Don't do that.” Clarke paused, unsure what to do next. “Don't apologize. You have nothing to apologize for.” Lexa's face was hard-set; her jaw clenched tightly closed. Clarke held her gaze until Lexa looked away and gulped. Clarke continued to watch the play of emotions slip over the Commander's hardened face.

  
“You're mad at me.” It wasn't a question; Clarke could see it plain as day. “I shouldn't have--”

  
“Clarke, stop!” Lexa commanded with a fire in her eyes that made Clarke step back. She'd seen Lexa in Commander mode before, but the full weight of the anger directed at her alone filled Clarke with unease. Suddenly reminded of just how strong and powerful Lexa was, Clarke backed down from her argument. “I need to attend to my people. Why don't you go to yours? I do not wish to speak to you anymore.” Defeated, Clarke left Lexa's side.

  
…

 

Lexa continued to avoid Clarke for the remainder of their travels. In four days time the travelers finally made it to the large village where the council meeting was to be held. They were offered real lodging – little huts with two beds in each. Despite Octavia's complaints she and Clarke ended up lodging together in the hut next to the one Lincoln and Bellamy shared. Clarke had been in a bad mood since the morning after Krisma and Octavia was sick of the whole thing.

  
“Just go talk to her, Clarke,” she demanded as they lay in their beds the night before the meeting was scheduled. “I can't sleep with you thinking so hard. You're going to give yourself an aneurysm.”

  
“I'm fine,” Clarke snapped. “Go to sleep, O.”

  
“I just told you, I can't.”

  
“Then stay awake for all I care.” Clarke rolled toward the wall of the hut and tried to focus on thoughts other than Lexa. She knew she should be focusing on what she'd say to the clan leaders in the morning, but Clarke's mind kept returning to that night. She replayed the argument over in her mind, each time rewriting the ending with what she should have said. “I'm going for a walk,” Clarke hissed suddenly. She pulled her boots and cloak on before disappearing into the dark.

  
The village was mostly silent as Clarke wandered along the main road leading through the town. When she reached the end, Clarke turned right and headed back along the next line of huts. She knew she'd reached Lexa's when she found Indra perched out front with weapons at the ready. Clarke stopped and deliberated if it wise to go bother Lexa. It was late and she could not see any light coming from inside so Clarke decided to continue on her way. Clarke wandered about until she felt thoroughly exhausted. By the time she returned to her hut Octavia's breaths were long and deep. Clarke climbed into bed and fell asleep within seconds.

  
…

 

There were twelve clans, thirteen including the Sky People, and each clan had one leader present during the deliberation. Clarke recognized a few of the faces from the battle on Mount Weather, but even with those leaders present Clarke still was vastly outnumbered with ones she'd never met. Most the twelve clans lived so far from Polis and TonDC that they were unable to join Lexa's troops for the battle, but now all the leaders were united.

  
Each tribe leader wore traditional Grounder clothing with some modifications. Different furs covered the leaders based on location. Clarke was surprised to find some of the leaders even clothed in what appeared to be bear furs. The Queen of the Ice Nation wore a cloak made from the hide of a polar bear complete with a hood made out of the face. She was tall and imposing—obviously aware of her power. She immediately took control of the room, speaking over the others until all eyes were glued only to hers.

  
Clarke watched enthralled as she moved about the room with an air of confidence and grace she'd never seen—not even from Lexa. Suddenly it occurred to Clarke why Lexa cared so much about her people's opinions. Lexa had to appear strong because this—this lioness of a woman—was Lexa's competition. Knowing what she knew of the Ice Nation and what they'd done to Costia, Clarke felt despair settle in her gut. She was going to lose and her people would once again be left without an ally.

  
“Lexa, my dear,” the Queen said with a venom lacing the term of endearment. “You've called this meeting and we've all arrived. Let us not waste time with pleasantries when winter is nearly upon us. What is it you want?”

  
“I speak for the Sky People,” Lexa replied, her voice calm and measured despite how fragile she looked standing across from the woman who ordered the death of Lexa's first love. “This is Clarke Griffin; she represents her people. I'd like to discuss including them into the alliance of our people.”

  
Grumbles and moans of dejection filled the room, but when the Queen spoke all fell silent again. “Why should we do that? They came to our lands, attacked our people, and now seek to infiltrate our goods and trades.”

  
“They came to _my_ lands, attacked _my_ people, and have valuable tools and services they can offer all of us if we agree to make peace. It was not your people that died in a battle against the Sky People; do not attempt to make this about you.” Lexa's words were harsh and full of anger. She didn't shy away when the Queen stepped closer to her, standing a full head taller than Lexa, and peered down.

  
“They were not welcome here. We were doing just fine before them. Why should we care what happens to them?”

  
Clarke replied before Lexa had a chance to speak. “Because we can offer you something you need.”

  
The Queen reeled on her heel and strode to Clarke. “And what is it you think we need?”

  
“We have medical techniques and sciences far beyond your capabilities. Our healers have access to forms medicine long since forgotten here on Earth. We also have the knowledge to rebuild this planet as it once was. Electricity, schools, and even automobiles. We can do all that, but we need the freedom to do so. We need help adjusting to this life here. We'd like to establish a trade system where we can all work together to better all our lives.”

  
“Is it not true these people have harnessed the power of gun powder?” The Queen announced as she reared toward the group. “What's to stop them from becoming what the Mountain Men were and using their so called science to wipe us all out? Or even worse, how are we to know they won't build the very same weapons that eradicated our ancestors?!”

  
The room erupted in cheers. Clarke could feel the favor shifting out of reach. She looked to Lexa and pleaded with her eyes. Lexa nodded once and stepped to the middle of the room. “Quiet!” The room fell silent at her will. “The Sky People are not the Mountain Men. They seek to map out a home for themselves on a planet that also once was theirs. Do you forget that their ancestors were also wiped out?! That they only survived because they escaped to the skies? We are all people. And we are the same despite our differences. If we can't learn to work together despite these differences how are we any better than the ones that dropped the bombs that destroyed the planet? How are we any different than the Mountain Men?!”

  
Hisses filled the room and all hell broke loose. “We're not savages like those mongrels!” A man in the corner screeched. “And we do not farm people for our own gain!” Another yelped. “We're civilized!” “We don't kill unless provoked!” “The Sky People attacked first!” “They've done nothing but kill since arriving here!”

  
“Shof op!” Lexa roared, this time livid. Her body shook as she attempted to regain control of the situation. “I worked too hard to unite us into one clan for this to be our undoing! Do you remember what it was like just a few short years ago? You!” her finger pointed toward the man in the corner. “Were ready to go to a full war against him over a uniting ceremony that his son backed out of! And you were fighting her clan because one of hers killed a boar on your land! We all lost many of our own during those dark days and I put aside my anger,” Lexa paused to catch her breath. When she spoke again her voice had dropped to a near whisper, but it was deadly. “I put aside my right for vengeance to make peace between us all.” Her eyes bore into the Queen of the Ice Nation. “I will not live to see this alliance fall apart because you are all too cowardly to accept change. You're stubbornness will get you killed.”

  
Not a single person made a sound for a considerable time after Lexa finished speaking. It was finally Clarke who broke the silence. “The Sky People wish to establish peace amongst us all. We only wish to make this planet our home. And we are willing to do what to takes to regain your trust.”

  
Lexa nodded toward Clarke a silent agreement before turning back to the group. “That being said, my clan sides with the Sky People. If you so wish to oppose us we will be forced to take action. I do not wish to see us return to the dark days, but I will do what it takes to continue us on the path I've set—a path toward a better future for the next generation. If you chose not to stand with us, you're choosing to stand against us. And that will be considered a breach of the treaty and an act of war.”

  
“Are you going to listen to this again?” The Queen questioned. “We've seen what Lexa can do. She's strong and smart, but misguided. Three hundred of her own people died at the hands of Sky People because of her mercy. How long until they attack all of us?”

  
“Is that your choice then?” Lexa posed calmly. Her lip turned up into a snarl and Clarke wondered if she'd just seen a glimpse of the Lexa that was borne after Costia's death. Lexa was delirious with anger and she was hungry to finally get her vengeance. Even Clarke could see that.

  
“Are you all seriously going to stand with this...this child!?”

  
The room was quiet again, but suddenly the man in the corner spoke in Trigedasleng. Clarke did not understand, but soon the rest of the room did the same. A chanting began as the all the leaders moved to stand behind Lexa. Soon it was just the Queen against all twelve other leaders. Clarke realized then that Lexa had done it. She'd won. And at her will, the Ice Queen fell in line.

  
“We'll discuss the new treaty outlines come tomorrow morning. This evening I suggest you all reflect on your clans needs and any changes you'd like to see. We will start fresh tomorrow.” With that, Lexa exited the hut in a hurry. Clarke sprinted after her and caught the Commander in the middle of the road. Clarke grabbed her elbow and spun Lexa around to face her.

  
“Thank you,” she whispered, suddenly unsure what else she could possibly say. “For standing up for me.”

  
“I didn't do it for you, Clarke,” Lexa hissed as she pulled her arm out of Clarke's grip. “I did it for my people.”

  
“Regardless,” Clarke added softly. “I'm grateful.”

  
“You're welcome.” Lexa's eyes softened, but her stance shifted again as she crossed her arms at her chest. Clarke reached out to touch Lexa's arm. She pulled it down and slid her hand in the Commander's clammy one. “What are you doing?”

  
Clarke smiled and squeezed the hand in hers. “I want to show you something. Come with me.” She pulled Lexa along toward her own hut, a little surprised to find that Lexa did not retract her hand. Clarke wondered as she walked if maybe Lexa's resolve had softened. She hoped she was right.

  
Inside her hut, Clarke reached into her bag and finally pulled out the book of Lexa's stories. Lexa's eyes widened when she realized what Clarke was giving back to her. “That was a gift,” she admonished. “I want you to keep it.”

  
“Open it,” Clarke answered as she dropped it into Lexa's hands. “Just have a look,” she added with a smirk when Lexa didn't immediately obey. Lexa frowned before peeling back the cover. What she saw brought a smile to her face.

  
“You...” she flipped another page. “You illustrated my stories?” Clarke nodded and moved to stand next to Lexa where she could see her work. It had taken her a long time to rebind the book with pages from her own sketch book, but Clarke was very proud of the work she'd done. “They're beautiful,” Lexa added as her voice cracked.

  
“I meant to give it to you on Krisma, but we both know how that night turned out. You still haven't let me apologize for that.”

  
“I told you that you don't need to,” Lexa replied as her eyes met Clarke's. Clarke noticed the brimming tears.

  
“I know I don't need to, but I want to, Lexa.” A tear slipped free from Lexa's eyes. The pad of Clarke's thumb stopped it on Lexa's cheek before it could fall onto the book. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things. I don't think of this as a game. I'm not even sure why I said it. I was drunk and frustrated because I wasn't getting what I thought I wanted. And you were just doing the right thing. I'm sorry.”

  
Lexa's eyes locked to Clarke's and held them in a warm gaze. Clarke's stomach knotted; her heart bumped wildly against her ribcage. “I forgive you, Clarke,” Lexa replied finally. “Thank you for the gift.”

  
Clarke glanced down to the pages again and pointed to a picture of a little girl with wild curls and a daisy behind her ear. “This was my favorite story. The little flower girl who saved her best friend from the pirates by fooling them all with her wit. It was a clever story.” Lexa turned the page to find the drawing of the end of the story. “I'm a sucker for a good happy ending,” Clarke mused as Lexa ran her fingers over the picture of the two young girls, one with dark curls and green eyes, kissing her beloved friend.

  
When Lexa spoke her voice cracked again. “This is beautiful, Clarke.”

  
“Thank you for inspiring me to draw again.”

  
“Did you know this story has a sequel?” Lexa asked with a smile. She turned her face to Clarke and smirked. “The little girl grows up and becomes a Commander. The other little girl is struck down and this one,” she pointed to the drawing of the dark haired one. “This one becomes very sad. But one day a new girl, with hair matching the rays of the sun, falls from the sky like a shooting star. The Commander mistook her as exactly that and wished for something new to take away the pain. And then you showed up.”

  
Clarke smiled as she felt her eyes brim with tears to match Lexa's. “Does the sequel also have a happy ending?”

  
“You tell me,” Lexa replied.

  
Clarke didn't need to be told twice. She turned fully and leaned into Lexa, brushing her lips softly against the ones she'd been craving for weeks. Lexa's mouth slipped open and a warm breath fell out of the lips like a sigh. Clarke pushed in deeper and captured Lexa's bottom lip in between her own. The book fell to the floor as Lexa turned to pull Clarke's body into her own. She gasped as they came together and moved to clutch Clarke's waist. Clarke ran her fingers through Lexa's hair as she slid her tongue past Lexa's lips. And that's when Clarke knew, without a doubt, that this was exactly what she'd been searching for since landing on Earth. She was finally home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so so so much if you made it to the end. I appreciate it very very much. I hope you enjoyed this story. It was fun to write. Feedback is always appreciated, but not mandatory. Thanks again.


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